A Wager
by Lady President Romana
Summary: Boredom gets the best of everyone, a bet is made, and (of course) someone trusting is made a victim. What else is there to do?


**Author's note:** This ditty was born out of the fact that I was thinking about how much funnier it would be for your typical romcom plot if Alex had gotten inserted into them. The 'typical plot' in question being "Male hero creates a bet with his dudebro friends that he can get any girl into bed with him; friends pick cynical girl because they like making life hard for our male hero. Male hero and cynical girl fall in love. The End." This being an ACO fanfic, the Happily After Part won't happen. Because as much as I hate to admit it, I honestly doubt that our humble narrator has a genuinely loving bone in his body. But there will be sex. Because there is a serious shortage of sexy!Alex stuff on this site. My first time writing anything like that, in fact. But it won't happen until later. Whoops. Also, for reference, the faceclaim I've picked for my OC, Clara Brooks , is Nina Dobrev. Anyway, remember to review and tell me how I'm doing! Criticism is encouraged, especially where Nadsat is concerned. Still don't quite have the hang of it.

* * *

The Korova was bursting with people, this much was obvious. And so the group of four that were lead by the notorious Alex DeLarge sat at a small booth near the back.

The Alex in question was currently leaning backwards, his eyes scanning across the establishment. Because Bog only knows that whatever cal his droogs were droning on about was far less important than finding something, _anything _to do tonight.

"Oi, Alex," came a voice from across the table. Alex's eyes snapped to meet those of Dim. "Dost thou slooshy me?"

"Appy polly loggies," Alex replied, shifting his position so that he was leaning forward onto the table. "Repeat those slovos, Dim, if you please."

Dim shook his head. "We were only govoreeting of your like conquest last nochy."

Ah, yes. He'd remembered it well. She'd not been too much trouble, the malenky ptitsa he'd taken the previous night. Far easier than usual, in fact.

"What about the devotchka?" Alex quirked up one brow in question. "Surely you do not wish to filly with her, eh Dim?"

Dim simply shook his head again. "We were only thinking... when was the last devotchka you had the ol' in-out with that you didn't have to force?"

Alex thought on that for a moment. "I don't recall. Why do you ask?"

Georgie and Pete almost snickered at that. Alex shot them a glare that made them shut up rather quickly.

"Simply wondering," Dim shrugged.

"Dost thou believe that thou coulds't persuade a devotchka to filly with thou without force?" Georgie asked slyly, reaching forward to grab at his drink and take a long sip.

Alex nodded. "Most definetly."

"Any devotchka? Even odin who was most like cynical and without radosty?" Dim asked with a small cock of his head to the side.

At that, Alex nodded again, but did not respond.

"How about we put a wager on this like idea?" Georgie asked, as if this had been the plan all along. (Which, Alex thought, it most likely had.)

"How much shall we be wagering, brothers?" Alex asked, the barest trace of a sly smile spreading across his lips.

Dim and Georgie simply smiled. Pete rolled his eyes, choosing instead to stare intently into his drink.

Georgie spoke up after that. "If thou somehow manages this downright impossible task, then we," he motioned to himself, Dim, and Pete, "will allow thou to keep all of the pretty polly that we manage to take for the next week of crasting, and allow you to filly with each devotchka we find."

Alex considered that. Of course, as of right now, all of the money they earned had to be divided semi-evenly among the four, and each lad got a turn with each creeching girl that they got. Fair was fair, after all. And though Alex always seemed to get the slightly bigger share, everyone got _something_. So the prospect of having all of their ill-gotten gains to himself made his smile spread all the wider. And all he had to do was seduce some ptitsa? Easily done.

"Are there any rules to this wager?" Alex asked. Dim nodded.

"No force," he stated firmly. "The devotchka's gotta come to thou of her own free will. And you can't use drugs, either, No feedin' the ptitsa milk plus and then she's putty in your rookers."

Alex nodded. Easy. "Any others, my brother?"

"Thou hast as much time as thou needs to get her into your bed," Georgie replied. "And if thou can do it, then thou wins the wager. See?"

"Oh, I see," Alex was full-out grinning at this point. This had to be the easiest bet he had ever partaken in. "And shall you lot be picking the lovely devotchka I'm to filly with?"

"Of course," Dim replied. "We'll pick one already in here, for convenience sake, brother, and you may use from this time forth to make her yours."

Both boy's eyes scanned across the Korova for a moment, before the door to the pub opened with a loud bang. A girl who couldn't be more than eighteen years old barged in, speaking loudly on her mobile phone.

"You shitting me right now?" she demanded brazenly to whomever she was speaking to. "I'm dead serious, Bess, you're grating on my last fucking nerve."

Dim grinned. "I do believe we've found our ptitsa. Rather gromky and rude, she sounds. A challenge for our little brother Alex. The Taming of the Shrew."

The girl took a seat, crossing her legs and glaring at nothing in particular. "Fine. I'm not even at the Duke anyway. I'm at the Korova." A pause. "Yes, I promise not to die. We'll sort this out tomorrow. Bye, Bess." She disconnected the call, and leaned back in the chair, shifting awkwardly when she realized it was pretty hard to get comfortable when you were sitting on what basically amounted to a mannequin.

A small shove from Georgie, and Alex was strolling over to the girl, taking a seat next to her. He supposed she was pretty enough, with wide dark eyes, medium-toned skin, and curly brown hair that came down to her mid-back. She raised her eyebrows when she saw him coming, moving over to make room for him.

"Art thou having trouble making thyself comfortable?" Alex asked, making sure his voice had a playful edge to it. Wouldn't want to intimidate her from the start.

"Pretty hard to get comfy when your chair has nipples that're digging into your back," she replied, kicking her sneaker-clad feet onto the mannequin in front of them. "Seriously, how does anyone relax in here?"

"It's quite easy, my lovely," Alex replied with a shrug. "Especially when one is filled with the wonder that is the moloko plus."

"Not big on drugs. Never have been," she shook her head. "You're not high on that shit right now, are you? Because, no offence or anything, but I'd prefer the company of someone sober right now."

Alex shook his head, which, surprisingly, was the truth. He hadn't the time to take a sip of his moloko before his droogs proposed the bet. "I've never touched the cal," he lied through his teeth. "Though..." he leaned over to whisper conspiratorially into her ear. "My dear droogs over there?" He pointed to where the rest of the gang sat. "Can't get enough of it. Disgusting, really."

The girl actually laughed at that. "High as kites, huh?" she asked him. "I know the type. Burnout friends are a total burden on your coincidence, believe me."

"Might I inquire as to thou eemya?" Alex asked her curiously. "It doesn't do well to have such a conversation with odin to whom you do not even know the most basic of facts."

"It's Clara," she replied, attempting in vain to lean back again, but sitting up after she realized that getting comfortable was a fruitless endeavor in this place. "Clara Brooks. What about yours?"

"Alex DeLarge," he replied, taking her hand in his. "It is certainly a pleasure to meet thou." And with that, he lifted her hand to his mouth, and lightly brushed his lips over her knuckle. She blushed slightly at that. He simply smirked.

"I thought kissing hands was a medieval thing," she joked as she pulled her hand away.

He shrugged. "Call me an old fashioned chelloveck."

"I thought I'm supposed to call you Alex," she teased, smiling softly.

"You've got me there, my lovely," he found himself laughing. "There now. Might I also inquire to whom thou were so bezoomingly shouting at through your mobile telly-phone?"

The smile slid from Clara's face. She sighed, shrugging. "Nothing important."

"Oh, but the way thou were so gromkily speaking to whomever it was made it sound quite important indeed," Alex replied.

Clara sighed again. "It's my little sister, Elizabeth. She's going through that phase where you wanna do everything like an adult, and she's just generally being rude to me all the time. Just called me up to tell me that our parents busted her ass for sneaking out, and now she wants me to talk to them and bail her out."

A look of mock sympathy crossed Alex's face. Though in all honestly he found her problems quite trivial, in his experience with women, one had to pretend like they cared about their problems in order to get in their good graces. "That sounds rather gloopy of her," he replied.

"Right?" Clara agreed. "That's what I told her. Well, I didn't say 'gloopy', but I did tell her it was a fucking stupid idea, and that mum and dad would catch her in two seconds."

"And have you snuck out from under the thumbs of your pee and em on this nochy?" Alex asked her.

She let out a small burst of laughter. "Fuck no. I'm not that stupid. Like I said, it's like they're the goddamn police. They'd figure out in two seconds."

"And they let thou itty off to such a place as this?" he motioned to the interior of the milkbar, which, for all it's decadent atmosphere, seemed a rather sleazy place to spend an evening.

She shook her head. "Nah. They don't even know this place exists. They just know I'm out for the night."

"And if thou dost not plan on indulging in the moloko plus, why dost thou feel the need to enter such an establishment?" Alex asked, feigning interest.

Clara shrugged. "I like looking at the scenery, I guess. This is actually my first time here. Y'know how I said earlier how I hung out with burnouts?"

Alex nodded.

"One of 'em told me this place was the shit, so I decided I oughta check it out," she finished. "How about you? If not to get high, why are _you _here?"

"My droogs insisted," Alex bemoaned, motioning again to Pete, Georgie, and Dim, who all were shooting the two of them glances every now and then. "I had no choice. The lot of them only wished to peet the sweet moloko all nochy, never thinking about their problems."

"Druggies, man," Clara shook her head disappointedly. "Can't reason with any of 'em. All they care about is their next hit. Thank God my sister never did any of that shit, or I'd be majorly disappointed in my big sisterly tactics."

"And how starry art thou?" Alex asked her suddenly. "This chelloveck would like to know a bit about thou."

Clara actually laughed at that. "Seriously? Huh. Well, for the record, I'm seventeen. How old are you?"

"Eighteen years of age, my lovely," he replied.

Just as that came out of his mouth, a loud beeping could be heard through the Korova. Clara gave Alex a look that signaled that she needed to pick up that call, and dug her mobile out of her pocket.

"Yo," she greeted whoever it was on the other end. "Yeah. Oh, seriously? It's only, like, ten, though. Yeah, I know. Mhm. Mhm. Ugh. Alright, fine. Geez. Be home in twenty. Love you too."

Alex raised a brow when she hung up. "And who was that?" he asked.

"My mum," she replied, standing up. "Apparently I'm out past when I said I'd be back. But it was still nice talking to you. Good luck with your druggie friends," she joked.

"And the same to thou, beauteous Clara," he replied, deception turning his tone gentle and kind. "If I may be so bold, might I inquire the number of your telly-phone? I'd like to continue this conversation another time."

"You want my number?" Clara asked, grinning. "Yeah, totally." She reached into her back pocket and took out a pen. "Hold out your hand, alright? I'll write it on there."

Although it almost caused him physical pain to have someone marr his flesh with such disgusting ink (he hated looking dirty, after all, and ink was, to him, dirt.) but held out his hand for her. Clara leaned forward and scrawled her phone number onto his palm, smiling again as she pulled back and slipped the pen back into her pants pocket.

"Sweet. So, I'll see you soon?" she asked him hopefully.

He nodded, taking the small opportunity to slip an arm around her wait and pull her close to him, causing her to let out a small squeak of surprise. Leaning his face forward, until his lips were barely an inch from hers, he murmured, "Of course, beauteous Clara. And a horrorshow nochy it shall be."

And suddenly, his lips were on hers, smirking slightly against her mouth when her body responded so suddenly to his actions. She pressed herself lightly against him, and when they finally broke apart, the blush that tinted her cheeks was brighter than he'd seen on her tonight.

"Uh..." she giggled awkwardly. "Oh my god. That was... yeah.. That was something alright."

He smirked. Easy, just as he had thought. "I shall give thou a ring-up when I see fit," he promised. Clara nodded, still slightly giggly as she walked out of the Korova, and into the street.

Oh, yes. This was going to be right fun indeed.

* * *

**Author's note: **Just gonna leave you guys in suspense because that's totally what I do best. Alex sure is a jerk, isn't he? Taking advantage of a poor girl like that. Make sure to leave a review! Later, duckies!


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